Somewhere, Something Incredible
by giveyourimmortalitytome
Summary: Scattered remnants were all that remained of their relationship: a scratched tape, crushed boxes of cheap popsicles, and an empty locker. Scattered remnants were all that was left of her.


Fifth period was scheduled to begin in two minutes. The hallways of Degrassi were swarming with kids, talking loudly about their weekends and how difficult various tests had been. Mia was directly in the middle of the mob, but she was totally alone just the same. As the kids streamed past her on their way to M.I. or Kwan's English or whatever class they had scheduled, Mia stood still. Deathly still.

She was in front of his locker. She had cleaned it out, with Toby and Liberty, a few weeks ago, but his presence still surrounded it in some sort of eerie aura. In the past week, Mia had often found herself here, in front of locker 9382. If she stood still enough and didn't say a single word, she could almost hear his laughter.

She was so enraptured by the memories and auras and laughter that surrounded the place where he had once stored his books, she didn't notice when Toby stumbled up and began entering the combination one locker over. Mia wasn't paying attention to him as he dumped some textbooks into his bag and slammed 9381 closed. She didn't notice Toby at all, until he slowly turned to her and said kindly, "This sucks, huh?"

It took Mia a moment to process the fact that Toby was talking, along with his actual words. "Uh – excuse me?"

"I know, it's a really bad adjective. Not descriptive at all. Kwan would fail me if she heard me saying it." Toby shrugged and readjusted his bag's strap. "But, somehow, it fits. All of this… _sucks_."

Toby offered her a small smile and Mia sucked in air. She blew it out fiercely, so her bangs flew up and fluttered against her sweaty forehead. "I realize that," she said slowly, carefully. She didn't want to loose her temper now. Another trip to Suave to discuss her "anger displacement" would surely do her in.

"How's Bella holding up?" Toby asked quietly. He took a step forward, closing in on Mia, who could not hold back the bitterness that escaped from her throat.

"Just great, Toby. Freaking fantastic. Considering, you know, her surrogate father's recent death by stabbing."

Toby's warm façade faded, just as Mia expected. She had grown so good making smiles evaporate like that; as of late, friendliness and cheeriness seemed to dissipate around her. She squandered their pity away easily, sent all her former friends running for the hills. She was the widow, after all, Degrassi's fallen queen. She was the unlucky teenage mother who, after finally finding a boy patient and perfect enough to put up with all her baggage, had lost him to a stupid rivalry (spurred by her, no less). It was modern-day Shakespeare; a regular soap opera. She'd snag a Daytime Emmy, no problem.

So, really, Mia understood. Who wanted to hang out with the cranky, premenstrual sort-of widow and her miserable two-year-old? Frankly, it was downright depressing. _She _was downright depressing. Couple that with the biting wit she'd developed in the past weeks, and she was no picnic to be around.

Secretly, she suspected that no one had ever _actually _liked her – they'd just been faking it for JT's sake. All the friends she'd made before had mysteriously disappeared as soon as he was out of the picture. The only two left were Manny and Darcy – if they even counted – relentlessly pursuing her to join Spirit Squad. Did they seriously believe she would ever give in? Last time she'd spoken to Darcy, she'd accused her of being a desperate whore. Besides, JT was _dead_. Her boyfriend of over three months, who she was pretty sure she'd been in love with, had been stabbed in the heart. The last thing she need right now was spandex and pompoms.

These days, her life consisted of a confused, crying Bella, empathetic, obnoxious teachers, and locker 9382; that was all Mia felt she could handle. Toby was the first person her age to forge a conversation in days – and Mia was pushing her away, just like usual.

"Oh – um," Toby forced another smile as he searched for something to say. "How about that cheerleading fiasco last Tuesday? Kind of embarrassing to think about that, right? How, uh, obnoxious were we?"

"Lakehurst didn't belong here," Mia muttered through her teeth. "They killed JT."

"That Drake kid did… Not Lakehurst…" Toby trailed off awkwardly. He could sense from Mia's set jaw line and tear-stained face that she was not a girl who was going to forgive and forget that easily. "Well, at least he's in jail, right? Someone is, you know. Paying."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Mia spat. Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. "The fact that some loser is rotting away in prison helps me sleep at night."

Toby took a deep, defeated breath and shut his eyes briefly. "You know, no one said I had to be nice to you."

Mia rolled her eyes and shot back, "No one said I had to be nice to _you_ either."

"But I still am," Toby continued, as if Mia hadn't spoken at all. "I say hi to you every day, even if you don't notice. I always ask how you and Bella are, even though you never reply. I'm trying here, and you're just blowing me off."

Mia finally ripped her eyes off his locker and glared at him. "In case you haven't noticed – JT is dead, Toby. My boyfriend is _dead_."

"Yeah, JT. _My _best friend!" Toby retorted angrily as he took another step towards Mia. "He's dead for all of us, Mia; not just you. But does that mean I'm – I'm supposed to stop – being a person? What do you want me to do? Piss everyone off and push them away, like you?" Before Mia could even begin to formulate a snappy comeback, Toby held his hands up in defeat. "You know what? Whatever. I don't need to hear it from you today. I've tried, I really have, but I'm finally taking the freaking hint. You'll finally be all alone. I hope you – just _enjoy_ it, alright?"

Toby turned abruptly on his heel and stomped away from her. The hallway was empty by now; class had started a couple minutes ago. Mia was alone, just like before. Toby disappeared around a corner and Mia turned back towards the locker. Fists clenched at her waist, she stepped towards it and closed her eyes, listening… But she couldn't hear him anymore. This place had once been his home base; they'd kissed and laughed and talked and fought here. But not anymore. Scattered remnants were all that remained of their relationship: a scratched tape, crushed boxes of cheap popsicles, and an empty locker. Scattered remnants were all that was left of her.

She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the wave of tears that was threatening to break through. Despite all that, despite all this – he hadn't even loved her. She shouldn't even be sad. JT had loved Liberty, and apparently always had – what did that make her? The rebound? The replacement? The pathetic loser who really had no reason to cry?

JT had died in Liberty's arms; and according to Mr. Suave back there, he'd still loved her. Yet, here she was, standing in front of his locker like a sap, acting all crazy and hearing voices. Why was she bothering? Why was she pining and grieving for a boy who hadn't even felt that way about her? Why wasn't she angry?

But the thing was, she was. Angry at Liberty for being JT's soul mate or whatever; angry at Drake for having enough hate in his heart (and booze in his blood) to whip out a knife; angry at Manny and Darcy for trying to pretend like nothing had happened; angry at Toby for giving up on her; angry at the people who surrounded her each day for treating her like fragile china that could crack any moment. Angry at Mrs. Suave for saying her anger was okay. Angry at Bella for not understanding the true seriousness of it all. Angry at her mother for her constant hovering. Angry at JT for dying in the first place.

The anger pooled in her stomach, spurring the worst cramps she'd ever had. She bit her lip and leaned against JT's locker for support. Clutching her stomach, she slowly slid to the grimy tile floor. She pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the locker. Her physical pain eased up a little.

"Fuck you," she whispered, tears brimming and heart swelling. "Fuck all of this." She gulped and looked up. Was JT up there? Where was he now? Could he see her?

She almost laughed at the thought of JT watching her from Heaven or Elsewhere or that big Playground In the Sky; watching and laughing as she sank to her knees and cried her freaking eyes out. What would he say to her? What _was_ there to say?

"Uh, Mia, sorry I led you on for all those months."

"I sort of always liked Bella more than you. I thought you knew?"

"I was going to tell you…"

Or maybe he'd do what he'd always done when she was upset – take Bella to the park and buy them both ice cream, pushing Bella higher and higher as he talked Mia down from her breakdown. Or surprise her with a couple of DVDs – a cartoon until Bella's bedtime, then a horror flick for after dark. She'd scream and shout and bury her head in his shoulder; he'd just laugh. Laugh and laugh and – for a second, for a moment, Mia could hear it again.

Mia pushed her hair behind her ear and wiped the stray tears away with her sleeve. JT had cared about her. She didn't doubt that. The way he had looked at her, the way he had held her and kissed her – well, it was obvious. Maybe not to anyone else, but definitely to her.

Maybe she hadn't been the love of his life. Maybe they would have broken up a few days later, had things been different. But things weren't different – they just _were_. JT had been a funny, smart, overall amazing boy who'd cared enough about Mia to pursue her and look after her cranky daughter and defend her honor against stupid Lakehurst thugs. He'd died dating her. She may not have been his soul mate, but she'd been his girlfriend. That had to count for something, right?

Really, though, Mia decided as she pulled herself off the floor. It didn't matter how JT felt about her. What was important was how she'd felt about him – and she'd loved him. In the big, embarrassing, white-picket-fence-two-point-five-kids-and-a-dog sort of way. His death wasn't about to change that.

Mia took a deep, yoga breath. She could already feel her heart rate slowing down and the heat escaping her cheeks. She surveyed her surroundings in an attempt to remember what class she had this period. Math, maybe? She might have had that already – she distinctly remembered staring blankly at a vector worksheet – but that could have been yesterday.

Oh, well. She'd figure it out eventually. She started off down the hall with the hope that the sight of Kwan or Simpson would inspire her to suddenly remember her schedule. Maybe once she reached the foyer, she could get a printout copy from the secretary. Or something. She would remember, eventually.

As she ambled down the hall, she let the memory of JT wash over her like rainfall. It was the random places that hurt the most – water fountain where they'd always meet after fourth period; the ancient flyer proclaiming that there was an opening at the TV station. The often-empty classroom where they'd sneak off to be alone during their shared spare. The corner table in the library where they'd struggle with homework. Together; always, together.

JT lived on in the little things. In the glances he'd shot her as they passed in the hallway; the notes she'd found crumpled in the crack of her locker. It wasn't much, she knew, but it was all that was left. She'd get used to it… eventually.

Mia reached the M.I. classroom a moment later. It wasn't her class; that much was obvious – too many pimples and too much awkward to be anything but Grade 9's. Mia stared openly as a girl wearing a top flashing what chest she had leaned towards a smirking thug in a jersey and a baseball cap. She whispered something in his ear; he smiled as she let out a flirty giggle. Mia gulped and watched the awkward reenactment of what she once was.

JT hadn't known who she was, then. Fuck – _she _hadn't known who she was. She'd been nothing more than a heavily made-up whore looking to be loved; a couple of failed classes and an STD away from spending her weekends on the corner. That's why Nic had liked her, after all – her open legs and distinct lack of personality.

But then she worked up the courage to buy a pregnancy test three towns over. Nine months later, a wailing baby had landed in her arms, along with a rapid personality change. Her old friends, bored by her newfound maturity and bedtime, had ditched her easily. Even Nic, who she'd thought had a soft spot for her, had accused her of cheating and sluttiness and all the usual post-pregnancy boyfriend claims. After that, it went the usual Lifetime route – she was ignored, alienated, whatever. Whispers followed her throughout the school day. Her name was splattered over bathroom stalls and scratched into desks.

She'd lasted, though, almost a year. Stared straight forward, ignoring the stares and filling in the dittos. Until she'd run out of diapers while Mom was at work. Carless and optionless, she'd trekked almost a mile to the closest drug store, toting a colicky Bella in her creaky, second-hand stroller. She'd paid for her supplies with a couple of crumpled bills, marched out of the store and straight into her old crowd.

Mia replayed the memory in her mind, as she'd done so often in the past, and struggled to hold back the tears. They'd taunted her, of course – that was a given. But they'd mocked Bella, too. Her ten-month old daughter who still had trouble standing up on her own – they'd attacked her. _Bastard,_ they'd joked. _Crack baby. Retard. Slut, just like her mother._ Something inside Mia shattered after that. First, she'd calmly placed Bella's stroller on lock, facing away from Nic and his gang. Next, she promptly began to kick their asses.

It was six against one, at least, but Mia still managed to do some considerable damage. Party because of her now-infamous temper issues; partly because as she laid it on Nic, her first choice for obvious reasons, the others had merely stared for a second. It took them a moment to process the fight club erupting in front of them. Here was the Mia they used to be friends with – kind, sweet, slutty Mia, pummeling one of their own? One of _her _own? It was unthinkable. It was… psychotic.

That's what they had shouted after her, as she'd determinedly wheeled Bella away. _Psychotic bitch! Fucking crazy! You're gonna pay! _She never figured out their exact price, though – she never went back to Lakehurst. She'd finished out her year at home and transferred to Degrassi Community School for Grade 11.

She met JT, and her life had morphed into a freaking telenovela. (As if the teenage pregnancy hadn't been enough.) A vicious school rivalry climaxing in death; his death. JT was dead. And it was her fault.

Most people would probably disagree. They'd comfort Mia, rub her back, whisper that it was Drake's fault, not hers, that her boyfriend was dead. They'd smile awkwardly at her and then turn back to their iPods; their gossip; their lives. Content with their Good Deed of the Day, they'd turn around and leave Mia, the girl with the dead boyfriend, to deal with on her own.

The facts were simple: Nic's hatred of Degrassi had escalated to dangerous levels after she'd transferred there. He had gone to his little sister's basketball game, knowing that Mia, a natural cheerleader, would probably be there. Mia had been the cause of that fight; that fight had been the cause of JT's notoriety among the Lakehurst thugs. Drake and Johnny, who were good friends with Nic, had gone to Emma's party looking to stir up trouble. Drunk and pissed off, they'd stabbed JT. They hadn't known him, not really; they'd only known that he was dating Mia, the crazy bitch who'd cheated on Nic and beat him up. Mia had fueled their anger. Mia had fueled JT's death. She was the person who left the roast baking when they left the house: she hadn't meant to start the fire, but she'd certainly been the cause of it.

All of it was her fault. JT hadn't done anything that in any way deserved this. Mia had gotten him entangled with Nic and Drake and all of the other kids – if he'd never met her, he'd still be alive. _Probably happily dating Liberty,_ Mia thought bitterly as she turned into the science hallway. She knew without looking that she was, once again, in front of JT's locker. She always ended up back here. She paused in front of Mr. Ellis' room. Did she have chemistry this period? Hm. Maybe what she had been searching for all along had been right in front of her the entire time.

Mia's eyes rose from the classroom door to the phrase stenciled out just below the ceiling. Back in her first days at Degrassi, the signifigant quotes scattered throughout the school had been one of her favorite parts. They were the kind of quotes that insp"ired importance – _meaningful things must happen here, in this place where Wisdom begins in Wonder._

In recent events, she'd forgotten about all about Socrates and Einstein and their wisdom scrawled across the walls of Degrassi. She'd forgotten about everything, really. JT's face, his laugh, had dominated her thoughts for so long – that is, until her eyes rose up and reached Carl Sagan's words.

_Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known._

A tear slid down Mia's cheek.

She was never going to know why JT had been stabbed to death at seventeen. Whether he would have chosen her over Liberty. What her life would have been like if she had never been in his life at all. She would never know the answers to these things… She… was going to have to live with that.

_Something incredible… _Mia gulped. JT had been incredible.

_…is waiting to be known. _She'd known him – for only a few months, but – it was better than nothing.

Mia closed her eyes. She whispered her next words, and almost swore she could feel them rising out of her chest. Maybe JT would hear them. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe it didn't matter.

"I'm sorry, JT. James Tiberius Yorke – thanks. I love you."


End file.
